There are a lot of alarming statistics available online about chlorine, but one truth is clear: chlorinated water is better for you than a pool that harbours bacteria, germs, algae and organic debris from sweat, suncream, skin and hair. Chlorine has doubtless saved lives since being used in swimming pools, and will continue to do so.
However, there is a reason why it was also used as a chemical weapon in the First World War: in high enough doses it is a vicious respiratory irritant, and in extreme cases even a few deep breaths can kill. Consequently, it can affect some people after exposure in the pool. It makes me sneeze for an hour or two after a pool swim. And it can exacerbate existing conditions such as eczema and asthma, as well as drying out skin, hair and nails. Our skin is our biggest organ, so we absorb chlorinated water all over – simply keeping our mouth, eyes and nose closed won’t help.
Used properly in a pool, chlorine is not an actual danger. It’s nevertheless wise to seek out a variety of swimming environments, as there are now alternative methods of keeping pool water clean and filtered. If those options are not available to you, there are ways to protect yourself. The best is to shower before getting in the pool. Covering skin and hair in fresh water makes it less absorbent to the pool water. There are also a wide variety of swimming-specific hair masks available, although I believe they tend to add to the larger problem of oil and debris in the water. Sure, your hair might become dry if you don’t use the mask, but if you do use one, you’re actually dunking a further dose of oil into the pool, potentially making it require further chlorine … and so the cycle continues. It is also wise to get fresh air as soon as possible after a pool swim, rather than staying in the closed, humid environment of the poolside.
3. Will I get injured?
Swimming deserves its reputation as an exercise that is highly unlikely to leave you injured: it is low impact, you have the support of the water, and there are no sudden jerky movements caused by other players or equipment. However, any long-term repetitive movement puts the body at risk of injury or inflammation. And for swimmers, the Achilles heel is, er, the shoulder. Specifically, it is the group of muscles and tendons that surround the shoulder joint, where the top of the arm meets the socket, known as the rotator cuff. On someone with low body fat and great muscle definition, it is quite clearly visible – the part of the shoulder that can look like wings.
Because of the angle of your arm and shoulder when you are at the most intense load-bearing part of the pull-push movement underwater, huge pressure can be put on the rotator cuff – particularly on the tendons, as they are passing through a relatively small gap. If overused, or used in the wrong position, inflammation and pain will follow. The three best things you can do for yourself to either avoid or support this type of injury are the same as for most sporting injuries: correct your technique, do some supporting exercises, and don’t disrespect the concept of rest.
A slack technique – such as shoulders that stay resolutely flat against the water rather than rolling with it, or hands that enter at the wrong angle – can cause damage. It is significantly easier and cheaper to work on your stroke technique before embarking on any feats of endurance than to pay for physiotherapy to deal with the pain afterwards. Doing some dry-land exercises to build the muscles will also help. And please, remember that rest does not mean you have failed: it means you are healing, and growing.
4. Can I still swim if I’ve got my period?
Yes, absolutely; it’s one of the main reasons why tampons were invented. And I understand that Mooncups – once you have the hang of them – are equally good, perhaps even better, since they don’t leave you with the telltale string potentially visible. I would go as far as to actively recommend swimming if you’re in pain due to menstruation. Unlike running or walking, which can leave you with a thudding, heavy feeling, of gravity bearing down on you and your uterus, the weightless nature of swimming can be a blessed relief from cramps and aches. Take note, though – I have learned from bitter experience that while it is possible to walk, say, across an office or a party to the bathroom with a tampon discreetly tucked up your sleeve, this is not possible when wearing a wetsuit, heading for a pre-event Portaloo. Holding it in your hand will just have to do.
5. Isn’t swimming going to hurt my ears?
Well, yes and no. Swimming can put your ears at risk of damage, but there are some simple things you can do to prevent this. There are two main problems: one helpfully known as swimmer’s ear, and the other unhelpfully named surfer’s ear.
Swimmer’s ear (otitis externa) is an infection of the ear canal, running from the inner ear, by your eardrum, to the external part of the ear. Water can gather here, providing the perfect environment for bacteria to grow and develop. Counterintuitively, using things like cotton buds, with which you might think you’re keeping your ears lovely and dry, can actually scrape at the skin, breaking it and providing an opportunity for more complicated infections to take root.
Conditions like this can be almost exquisitely painful. Within two months of starting my swimming course, I had a bad ear infection. The side of my face swelled up and I was convinced I had mumps. It hurt to chew food, it hurt to smile, it hurt to sleep on one side. I shudder even remembering it, but antibiotic ear drops dealt with it within a week.
What could I have done to prevent it? Well, I should have focused on drying my ears properly when I got out of the pool rather than waiting until bedtime and fiddling around with cotton buds. I would leave the water rattling around in my ears, shoving some headphones in for good measure during my journey home, and then just wait hopefully for what a friend once described to me as ‘the hot trickle’: the water that had been gently warming up in my ears slowly making its way out. I am retching as I type. These days I tend to put a drop of tea tree oil in my ears before swimming in a pool, and I make sure I dry them at the same time that I dry my hair – often, a quick blast with the hairdryer to double check. Also, I no longer use in-ear headphones. I have never had another ear infection.
Surfer’s ear (exostosis) is an entirely different problem, and one caused exclusively by time spent in cold water. Hence the name: it is a problem that has become more prevalent since advances in wetsuits have meant surfers are able to spend much longer periods of time in the water.
Somewhat grotesquely, and for a reason no one seems to have adequately explained, cold water causes the bones that make up the ear canal to continue to grow. I know. It’s like an oversight made by Dr Frankenstein. But it’s true. The bone grows, the tunnel becomes narrower, and then comes the trouble hearing and the world of infections caused by the water getting stored behind the bone growth. Again, I retch.
The solution to surfer’s ear is not ear drops. Far from it: it can in fact require surgery, under general anaesthesia, and the use of a small drill or chisel. I imagine that now you are armed with this information, you will develop the same sudden passion for wax earplugs that I did. Because they are the solution. Simply don’t let the water in. Trust me. And don’t search for this on YouTube unless you have a strong stomach.
6. Is swimming in the cold bad for me?
Regular, acclimatised swimming in cold water for reasonable periods of time is not bad for you. In fact there is an increasing amount of evidence that it can help both physical and mental health in all sorts of wonderful ways – even trivial ones such as its knack of tightening pores and flattening hair follicles for gleaming post-swim locks.
Repeated immersion in cold water is a stress-inducing non-infectious stimulus to the body: increasing metabolic rate and burning calories with the post-swim shivers; activating the immune system by increasing white blood cell count; increasing lymphatic drainage; improving the circulation and stimulating the brown fat that can lead to weight loss. Effectively, being a mild stressor keeps the whole system on its toes.
Then there are the long-term mental effects. Cold water prompts norepinephrine and endorphins – nature’s painkillers, the chemicals that give us that
sense of being high – to flood the body in order to help with the sting of the cold on your skin. It also stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system, decreasing the panicky fuel that is cortisol, and prompting the release of dopamine and serotonin, neurotransmitters with the effect of keeping us happy.
HOWEVER – and I would like you to picture that word in twelve-foot neon illuminated letters – the immediate effects on a body of sudden immersion in cold water are dramatic, unavoidable, and particularly powerful if you are unacclimatised. In short, it doesn’t matter how fit, how strong or how young you are: for the unprepared, the effect can be catastrophically dangerous. There are, after all, only two outcomes if you are in water colder than your core body temperature: you will warm up the entire sea, river or lake to your temperature (um, unlikely); or it will cool you down to its temperature (all but guaranteed).
When you hit the water, your skin immediately cools, your outer blood vessels narrowing to conserve body heat and oxygen specifically for around the vital organs. This process, known as peripheral vasoconstriction, will cause your heart rate to rise suddenly, and your blood pressure with it. (Curiously, it can also make you feel intensely as if you need to pee.) Your breathing will become erratic within seconds, and in some cases you will over-breathe, ultimately hyperventilating as you try to get oxygen into your panicking body.
Moments later, the increased amount of carbon dioxide that you are expelling will cause painful muscle cramps, and as your blood has moved to the centre of the body, your hands, feet, arms and legs will start to become very tired, and struggle to move as well as normal. And that is just the first few minutes, in water that could be moving fast around you.
So yes, you can tell the smartarse in the pub who calls you an idiot for undertaking outdoor swimming that they are right when they say that cold water is horribly bad for you. But then you can tell them that when the body is properly acclimatised, and entry to the water is slow rather than sudden, it is also undeniably good for you.
7. I want the good effects – how do I acclimatise?
Acclimatisation is not something that can be embarked upon in a hurry. It takes, well, the whole winter, really. And you can’t drift in and out of the commitment. Essentially, you have to keep entering the water as the seasons change and the water temperature drops. This way, you won’t feel the drop in temperature as it happens, slowly, over many months; your body will become incrementally more tolerant of it, the water seeming almost the same temperature every day as you adapt to it. Of course, there are days when the sea is too rough, the river is too full or the lido, surrounded by sheet ice, is just unbearable, but on the whole you need to go in at least once a week to keep your body acclimatised. I swim regularly with men and women who don’t even wear wetsuits, but who have developed a very keen sense of how long they can confidently swim in cold water. Some days, at the coldest time of year, it is only ten or fifteen minutes.
And don’t be tricked by when the coldest water temperatures of the year actually are. The larger the body of water, the longer the lag in temperature and the more dramatic the drop. An outdoor pool or lido gets cold much faster than the ocean does, but it will also warm up much faster. The sea will retain the summer sun’s heat for a good six or eight weeks, which means that swimming in October is still pleasant, even if you cracked open that first packet of opaque tights for work a fortnight ago. But the spring sunshine of late March, no matter how lovely it feels on your back in the park, takes weeks to warm the ocean.
Consequently, March is generally the coldest month for outdoor swimming, but it is eminently doable if you keep your tolerance up. I managed about twenty minutes most days, wearing a half-wetsuit (arms in, legs out) and no gloves or neoprene hat. Sometimes it was forty minutes if the sun was on my side, and those in my group who wear full wetsuit, socks, gloves and hat were happily swimming for up to forty-five minutes, several times a week, at about 6°.
It is important to note that we are all healthy swimmers who had taken a specific sea swimming course and who committed ourselves to swimming regularly and never unaccompanied. We also retained fitness by doing other sport on the days that we could not swim in the sea, whether it was pool swimming, running or even gardening. If you have existing cardiovascular or circulation problems, you should not attempt cold-water swimming unless you have had the most serious of discussions with your doctor. And you can’t make it a New Year’s resolution and hurl yourself off a boat on 1 January. It is simply not possible to will the basics of thermodynamics away in a moment of high spirits.
8. Okay, I’m up for it – but how do I warm up again afterwards?
You would not be unreasonable to assume that it’s as simple as ‘have a hot shower and pop on a bobble hat’, but it isn’t: the moment you leave the water, the peripheral vasoconstriction ends. Cold blood from your extremities is pumped around the body, mixing with the warm blood that was around your core. As the switch happens, regardless of your outdoor environment and even though your overall body temperature is increasing, your core body temperature drops. It takes about 10–15 minutes for this switch in temperature to occur, at which point you feel a deep cold within, and the shivers kick in. This sensation of delayed inner chill is call ‘the after-drop’, and is both unnerving and invigorating.
The most important thing to know about getting warm is that you should do it from the inside out. Don’t get into a steaming hot shower or bath ten minutes after leaving the sea, but do have a hot drink or some warm food. External heat will speed up the movement of the cooled blood, making the after-drop more severe, and possibly causing you to faint. Warm food or drink won’t.
Make the most of the minutes between exiting the water and the after-drop kicking in. Sure, your hands might be a bit stiff from the cold, but bung on as many clothes as you can before the shivers start – they make it near impossible to deal with buttons, zips and laces. Since warm food or drink will help both your hands and your heart, make sure you’re prepared with either a flask or a café nearby.
And don’t be impatient – trying to drive or cycle as your core body temperature drops and the shakes kick in is optimistic at best, damn foolish at worst. Keep an eye on the others you swam with, enjoy the snacks and let nature take its course. In ten minutes you’ll feel a furnace burning within you for the rest of the day.
9. Is swimming going to help me lose weight, because it always leaves me so hungry?
Currently there is no absolute consensus on what it is about swimming that makes us so hungry, but most scientists agree that it is connected to two things: the change in body temperature created even by pool swimming, and the deceptive nature of being surrounded by water that makes us forget we’re sweating, thirsty and therefore getting dehydrated.
Even standard indoor swimming pools are a lower temperature than our body core, so any swimming will make our internal organs work a little harder at temperature regulation, alongside all of the other cardiovascular and muscular activity going on. Some scientists believe that the temperature change while in the water dulls hunger, making it return with a vengeance once we’re out, while others claim it triggers a hunger response that our body doesn’t realise is temporary. Still others believe that it is simply the extra energy it takes to handle even mild peripheral vasoconstriction that makes us hungrier than running or other sports would.
Either way, combined with the dehydration we so often fall for, our post-swim hunger is often far greater than our actual post-swim need for food. Infuriating! This is then added to the fact that the more streamlined and efficient your stroke is, the less energy you will actually need to expend to move through the water, and so the fewer calories you will burn on a regular swim. This is great if you want to get from A to B, or to win a race, but less good if you’re trying to actively shed weight.
The combination of these factors perhaps explains why swimming sometimes has a bad reputation for making us put on weight. The reputation is wildly undeserved, if understandabl
e. I would also like to suggest that it doesn’t matter. Sure, we should all try to stay within the healthy weight range for our age and height, but it is far from necessary to conform to the media, advertising industry and social media’s idea of what a ‘swimmer’ looks like.
10. What about the terror? You know, the terror of bumping into a fish, a seal, a jellyfish or an as-yet-unspecified terrifying sea monster lurking in the dark?
I know the terror. The mind can be cruel. As I discussed in Chapter 4, what is going on inside your head can have an immediate and enormous effect on what goes on in your body. So the terror – whether of learning to swim for the very first time, or of setting off in an open-water event in an unfamiliar watery environment – is real, and can be dangerous. The slow, creeping thoughts about what might be nearby, the endless darkness below you and the distance between you and the shoreline or riverbank can leave you panting, panicking and petrified if you don’t master a few simple steps to take control of the situation.
Make sure that your wetsuit, if you’re wearing one, fits well and has been put on properly. Twisted neck and shoulder lines can mean that your emotional sense of claustrophobia is increased by an actual sense of being restricted. Get used to wearing your wetsuit for short swims where you feel entirely comfortable or are supported by official lifeguards before you take on anything bigger.
Enter the water slowly and calmly. Whether it’s a pool or open water, hurling yourself in when you’re prone to being nervous will only sharpen your breath. And cold water will do this to a far greater degree. Wade into open water slowly, forcing yourself to exhale as you do. Tip your face into the water while you can still touch the bottom; only once your breath has regulated should you set off swimming.
Don’t start too fast. Even if you’re in an event and aiming for a good time, don’t be conned into thinking that the buoyancy of the wetsuit means you won’t need to warm up your heart and lungs once you start moving. Being a little short of breath for the first five or ten minutes is entirely normal as your heart rate quickens and your lungs get to work, but darting off at top speed will not give you a chance to steady your breathing and could lead to even bigger panic.
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